


Mah Nishtanah

by masquerade97



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Gen, Passover, Pesach, passover seder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 11:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10696188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masquerade97/pseuds/masquerade97
Summary: Passover seder at the Lewis residence after Simon becomes a vampire.





	Mah Nishtanah

**Author's Note:**

> i couldn't stop thinking about Simon as a vampire at Passover, so i wrote a fic \o/  
> also, the Passover seder is a very long and complicated ordeal, so this is a pretty simple rundown of how it goes

“Does this count as blood libel?”

“What?”

“I mean, I _am_ drinking blood at a Passover seder,” Simon said, turning his wine glass in his hand and inspecting its contents. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he glanced over at his sister. “Do you think they’d burn me at the stake for this? Or stab me with it?”

“ _Simon_ ,” Rebecca said, somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Please, I know you’re trying to help, but don’t talk like that in front of mom.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Simon said. He put his glass down and took a step back from the table.

Simon knew he shouldn’t be nervous. After the initial freak-out, his mom had been getting used to the idea that her son was now a vampire. She’d been having an equally difficult time accepting that Clary now fought demons for a living, but nonetheless had made sure the two of them knew they were welcome to Passover again, just like old times.

“It’ll be okay,” Rebecca said. She stepped over to her brother and rested a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

Simon huffed a laugh. “I hope so,” he said. He knew she could see his nerves, and he was glad for the comforting weight of her hand on his shoulder. “But I can’t say any of the blessings.”

“You can ask the questions.”

“Can I?”

“Why not? You’ve always asked them.”

That wasn’t exactly true. Simon remembered one year Clary had tried to recite them, but she had tripped over the Hebrew. From then on, Simon would ask in Hebrew, and Clary would repeat after him in English.

“That’s not what I mean,” Simon said. He crossed his arms in front of himself and gripped his elbows. “Am I even allowed to be here? I’m not alive.” It had been a while since Simon had attended Hebrew school, but he was reasonably sure that the seder shouldn’t happen around a dead body. “You aren’t allowed to do any _mitzvot_ around me.”

Rebecca considered the question for a moment before she shook her head. “You’re upright and talking to me, I’m willing to consider you alive. Besides, didn’t you call yourself _un_ dead?”

“Yeah, but it’s…. you know, it’s the principle of the thing,” Simon said.

“You’re not dead, as far as we’re concerned.”

“With all that talking, I hope the table is set,” Elaine said as she entered the room, Clary on her heels.

“Yeah, mom, of course,” Simon said. He felt his anxiety spike again, and he had to work to keep his fangs from showing themselves.

Simon felt himself relax as the seder began. Each of the chairs had a pillow leaning against the left armrest so they could recline, and it felt so normal and comforting that Simon immediately felt better; this was something that hadn’t been touched by the shadow world, something he could enjoy. The taste of blood was jarring when he was expecting wine (his mother had started letting him have wine in his first glass three years ago, and last year he’d had two), but even so, he didn’t feel out of place. He’d filled his own wine bottle with blood so it wouldn’t be too close to the front of everyone’s minds throughout the evening.

The _karpas_ was even more unpleasant than he remembered from the year before, but he figured that was because of his new diet. He forced himself not to make a face, and he smiled at his mom when she glanced over at him. She smiled back.

“Do you want to break the matzo?” Elaine asked.

Simon shook his head. “I did it last year,” he pointed out. “I think it’s Clary’s turn.”

“You’re still asking the questions, right?” Clary asked as she took the middle matzo and snapped it as close to halfway down the middle as she could manage. One side always ended up larger than the other, though she and Simon and Rebecca often competed to see who could break it exactly half-and-half.

“I was told that’s my job,” Simon said, grinning at his sister. She rolled her eyes at him.

“I’m sure Clary remembers them if you don’t want to ask,” Elaine said. She wore a small smile when she glanced between Simon and Clary.

Simon turned to his mother with feigned betrayal. “You’d give away my _job_?” he asked.

“You aren’t asking anything,” Elaine said with a small shrug.

Simon was pleased she was joking. He’d been worried she’d be on alert all night, but she seemed to have relaxed just as much as he had.

“ _I’ll_ do it,” Rebecca cut in. “ _Mah nishtanah_ -”

“Wait wait wait, just hold on,” Simon interrupted. “I want to ask!”

“Then ask!” Rebecca was clearly trying to look annoyed. She was also clearly failing.

“ _Mah nishtanah halaila hazeh mikol halaylot_?” Simon asked. _Why is tonight different from all other nights?_ The Hebrew was familiar, something he’d had memorized since he was a kid. He’d never minded always being the youngest one, and therefore the one who asked. And it had been fun to have Clary repeat after him. Two years ago, they’d started coming up with a melody that worked the Hebrew and English together so they could sing it, but somewhere that’d gotten lost.

As soon as Simon and Clary were finished asking their questions, Simon’s mother dove into the story of the Exodus. Having her tell the story was one of his favorite parts of the holiday, and Rebecca would jump in with additional details, helping to drive the narrative forward. Their back-and-forth always created an interesting story, and Simon had never once tired of hearing them tell it together.

After the story was done and they had each spilled a drop of wine for each of the plagues, they stood to go wash their hands in the kitchen. Rebecca started singing _dayenu_ somewhere along the way, as she always did; when they had extended family over, it took so long for everyone to wash their hands that they didn’t have time to sing separately, so after the blessing had been recited for washing their hands, they sang _dayenu_ until everyone had returned to their seat.

Simon stayed back at first, taking the _afikomen_ in hand and finding a hiding place for it in the living room.

“How am I supposed to see where you hid it if you’re moving that fast?” Clary demanded under her breath when Simon stepped up to the sink beside her. There was a hint of amusement in her voice and she flicked drops of water at him.

“I don’t know, use your Shadowhunter runes or whatever,” Simon said with a shrug.

“Simon, you need to sing,” Elaine said, even as Rebecca continued from where she was leaning against the counter. “You’re the only one who knows all the verses.”

Simon tried to hide the grin on his face, but he knew he looked pleased. “What verse are you at?” he asked, turning his attention to his sister.

“ _-b'tocho becharavah-_ ”

“ _V'lo shika tzareinu b'tocho_ ,” Simon joined in, “ _Dayenu!_ ”

They were still singing when they sat down, and sure enough, by the time they reached the last few verses, Simon was the only one singing. He made sure to give his sister the smuggest look he could muster.

Maybe it was because dinner was coming, but the next few steps went by quickly. Rebecca recited _motzi_ and then the blessing for the matzo and they each ate a piece. The _maror_ , like the _karpas_ , had a more bitter taste than it had the year before, and Simon was disappointed that even the _charoset_ had lost its appeal. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest that the _korech_ almost made him gag.

When it came time to eat, Simon served himself a little bit of everything his mother made, though it was more to not draw attention to the fact that he wasn’t going to eat than anything. He nibbled at the food, but didn’t make any attempt to finish it. Instead, he joined in the conversation. They stayed away from current events, which was fine with Simon. Mostly they told stories from the seder’s they’d had in the past. They talked about the time Simon’s uncle had insisted on a new tune for _dayenu_ and had forgotten half the words because the rhythm wasn’t familiar; they talked about when one of Simon’s cousins had hidden the _afikomen_ and then forgotten where she’d put it – since they couldn’t finish without it, that had resulted in everyone combing the house until they’d found it half an hour later, wrapped in a napkin in the top drawer of Simon’s desk. Rebecca brought up the last seder they’d had with their father, and Simon laughed about the different voices he would use when he told (or rather, put on a one-man performance of) the Exodus story and how that had been so exciting when he came to tell the Hebrew school class in third grade.

They were quiet for a few moments after mentions of Simon’s father. Talking about him always felt significant, and they were each lost in their own thoughts until Simon’s mother finally broke the silence.

“So, where’s the _afikomen_?” she asked.

Simon shrugged with the most innocent look he could manage. “It’s not here anymore.”

“Did you see where he put it?” Rebecca asked, turning to Clary. Usually Clary knew; sometimes if she knew, she would join Simon in making it difficult for everyone else to guess where it was.

Clary shook her head. “He hid it before I could even see where he was going with it.”

“It’s nowhere complicated,” Simon said.

“Well you couldn’t have been too far away when you hid it,” Rebecca said, pushing her chair back so she could stand.

“I don’t know about that,” Simon said. “I’m pretty fast now.” He almost regretted saying it until he heard his mom laugh.

“Why don’t we split up to look, hmm?” Elaine asked.

“I think it’s either in his room or mine,” Rebecca said, starting in that direction.

“I’ll go check my room,” Elaine said. As she stood, she gave Simon a stern look. “If it’s in the bathroom again-”

“That was one time! I was five!” Simon protested. “And Leah thought it was hilarious!”

Clary laughed. “It was pretty funny,” she agreed. She stood from her chair. “I think you hid it under a couch cushion,” she added, making her way to the living room.

A minute or so later, they were back around the dinner table, Clary having found the matzo behind the TV. They broke the _afikomen_ as evenly as they could and they each ate their piece. Simon was grateful they’d given him the smallest piece.

After _barekh_ , Simon opened the front door for Elijah. He wasn’t there this year, but Simon left the door open anyway. It was a pleasant evening, and the soft sounds from outside helped edge the seder closer to its conclusion.

The ending of the seder was always peaceful, Simon thought. No matter how many relatives were over, there was always a contentment over the ending of the seder. It was after ten already, and the last two steps didn’t take too long. Simon listened quietly as his mother’s voice drifted over him. This was about the time he and his younger cousins would start to drift to sleep. Sometimes his aunts and uncles would too, depending on how much the wine was affecting them.

Now he felt at ease in a way he hadn’t thought he would again. There was something about the idea of moving forward that came with Passover that was helping him, though he didn’t think he could articulate how.

Simon smiled at his mom when her voice trailed off. “ _L’shanah ha-ba’ah b’Yirushalayim_.”

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you think! i'm also [over here](http://titlecomingsoon.tumblr.com/) if you want to talk on tumblr


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